


Beyond These Stars

by Dragonsquill (dragonsquill)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Retelling, F/M, M/M, Science Fiction, Upcoming: Bilbo/Bofur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsquill/pseuds/Dragonsquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people of Erebor were the last race of Khazad who lived on a planet instead of on a great ship wandering the stars.  But all that changed the day the Smaug attacked and they were forced to flee to their largest ship, now called the <i>Ered Luin</i>.  But their king, Thorin Oakenshield, has taken a company onto the small craft <i>SS Retribution</i>, on a mission to take their planet back.  The Company makes up the ground crew, engineers, pilots, andmedic.  All they need is a computer security specialist - who is found on the most unlikely of planets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is co-created with the lovely Linane! Follow the story on tumblr for images and information.  
> This story is written in short chapters and from alternating points of view.

The Company of the _SS Retribution_ worked hard, but their captain wasn't a slave driver. He knew the importance of down time, even if he seemed incapable of taking it for himself. Every couple of months, Balin and Ori would locate a nice planet or planetoid devoid of locals, and the crew of the Raven would take a couple of days off, either planetside of aboard ship, as each individual preferred.

On these trips, Fili and Kili could always be found planetside, of course, along with Nori, Bofur, Dis, and Oin (though he gathered herbs more than he relaxed). The others waited until they saw what the planet was like before deciding whether to go down or spend two glorious days sleeping in their bunks, preferably without their bunkmate.

Rarely did a location entice every one down - especially Thorin, who as aforementioned could not relax, and Ori, who was born on a ship and felt a ship was exactly where his boots belonged (what he would do if this mad quest of the captain’s worked, rather than leaving them all imploded husks in orbit around Erebor, Nori didn’t know). Complete disembarkation did happen occasionally, however, as it did during their voyage to Shire, when Balin found a planet with shallow, crystal clear lakes surrounded by stone and grass.

The _Retribution_ could land, when needed, but she did best in space, so it was up to Nori and his _Jackrabbit_ to take groups ashore. Fili and Kili were in his first haul, as always, they being the most used to traveling through the atmosphere and visiting planets. In fact, Fíli’s beloved Raven was tucked in her usual spot in the _Jackrabbit_ ’s hold, just in case the prince felt the need to go for a ride planetside.

When they arrived, Nori was interested to find that they had between them, held in firm grips, his own baby brother, Ori.

"Nori!" Ori growled upon seeing him (and how entertaining, Ori wasn't usually one to growl), "They're kidnaping me!"

Nori looked over the two princes. While usually they did, indeed, look rather like kidnapers in their all-black mission gear, this morning they were dressed comfortably, Fili in sedate browns and Kili in perhaps the most obnoxious blue shirt Nori had ever seen in his life. It had an eye-searing repeating design of uncut diamonds printed on it. That sort of tacky must have come from one of the _Ococarni_ ships, perhaps the _Ered Engrin_ , though how Kíli got his hands on it was a mystery. They looked like vacationers, not trained robbers. 

Ori, of course, looked as he always did, in mismatched layers and one of his soft scarves, as if the ship was kept at subarctic levels rather than a nice, steady temperature designed for maximum dwarven comfort.

"Really?" Nori asked, his voice the sort of lazy drawl that drove his other brother up the wall. "You don't seem to be putting up much of a fight."

Ori glared at him. His glares were, much to Ori's chagrin and Nori's endless delight, terribly cute rather than frightening. "I did before they got hold of my scarf."

It was only then that Nori noted the scarf was wrapped, not around Ori's neck, but around his arms and torso.

He shook his head sadly. "Kidnaped with your own knitwear. I have failed you as a brother."

"Shut up and save me!"

Nori considered this. "How much," he asked, "will you pay me to save you?"

Any time was a good time to make a deal, even when his baby brother was in pseudo-danger. Considering the princes were Ori’s closest friends and depended on his voice for survival on a semi-regular basis, Nori wasn’t genuinely concerned for his safety. Getting off the Retribution for a few hours wouldn’t kill Ori, no matter what he thought.

Ori’s glare darkened cutely. "Nothing! You're my big brother! It's your job to save me!

"I'm fairly certain it ceased being my job when you turned seventy and started making eyes at the king's bodyguard."

Ori turned an infuriated pink as Fili and Kili grinned. "I knew it!" Kili crowed, letting go long enough to pump a victorious fist in the air.

Ori, to Nori’s secret pride, twisted neatly and would have gotten free on that side, had the elder prince – more focused and less given to wandering attention than his brother – not hissed made up for Kíli’s missing hand by wrapping a boot neatly around Ori’s and tugging just enough to interfere with Ori’s balance.

Nori felt another moment of accomplishment. That was an underhanded little trick Nori had taught Fíli, back when the prince wasn’t quite in his majority and they had only recently all left together on the Retribution. It hadn’t been easy overcoming the firm sense of honor and fair play Fíli’s family had put in his head and convince him to cheat a little. 

Fili snorted. His hair was down for once, an obnoxiously attractive golden fall down his back. When Nori left his hair loose, he looked like a deranged fluffball. "Only because I told you,” he said, and, ignoring Kíli’s growled indignation, “All right, let's get him in the Hopper."

The princes paid no mind to Nori's snarl - he hated the idiotic nickname this group of utter misfits had come up with for his beloved _Jackrabbit. Gingerhopper_ indeed. Instead, they gripped his brother's arms and lifted him onto the ship and more or less wrestled him - over Ori's loud protestations - into a seat and buckled him in.

"Group one ready to go!" Fili called cheerfully, because four was a full load for the _Jackrabbit_.

Beyond several minutes of Ori reaming both Fíli and Kíli out in the most polite fashion possible, the first flight down was uneventful. By the time the princes were rolling out the door like puppies, chattering about a nearby waterfall perfect for trying to break their necks jumping off of, Ori was relaxed enough to inform them he wouldn’t even go for help and they deserved everything they got.

\----  
It did take the _Rabbit_ several trips, of course, and Nori didn’t bother to hide a little grin when Dwalin glowered his way into a seat instead of staying aboard. Ori would be pleased.

 

Nori's final trip was meant to be only Balin and Dis, since the king generally preferred to stay with the ship. However, he ended up with three passengers again - this time at the insistence of the Retribution's stubborn, powerful, kind, loving, and beautiful first officer.

The sound of boots coming down the short hallway to the _Retribution_ ’s tiny ship bay was accompanied by the pleasant growl of the captain’s voice. "Someone should stay with the ship-"

"She's being monitored, Thorin." Ah, the motherly Dis, her voice warm. Lines crinkled beside her blue eyes as they came into view – this was the voice she used when dealing with her sons, or calling her husband back aboard the Ered Luin.

"I really don't need to-"

"Yes you do, Thorin."

"I'd love to catch up on some sleep-"

"Sounds like an excellent excuse for a moonlit nap."

"Really, Dis, this isn't necess-"

"Thorin, you are going down to this planet with me and that's final. No more discussion, no more whinging, no more trying to wriggle out of it.” Her voice sharpened, and now she sounded like the prince she was, destined to be the new Heir one day, if she didn’t abdicate for her son. “Thorin, you’re becoming more and more on edge. You need to get your feet on some stone and take a few days to breathe.” She reached out and rested her hands on his shoulders. Dis was a tall female, not much shorter than her brother. “Thorin, I know better than anyone else what this mission means to you. We’ll be at Shire in just a couple of weeks. Taking a couple of days to feel the soil and relax will be good for you. You’ll see.” 

Thorin, the Heir of Durin, captain of their ship, brooding and silent and often difficult to understand -

-was also no fool.

He leaned forward, his forehead touching lightly against his sister’s. Thorin trusted his sister’s council; he said she had given him reason to, all their adult lives. “All right, Dis. I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” she said, giving his right braid a tug, a sign of affection her younger son had picked up for his brother as well. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

Thorin boarded the _Jackrabbit_ with his usual look of faint concern that Nori's precious lady might fall apart in seconds. Dis boarded with her usual grin and warm hello. She was a dwarf who properly appreciated a ride in a small ship helmed by a brilliant pilot.

"Buckle your harnesses!" Nori called cheerfully, and if perhaps he did a loop de loop on the way down, it certainly wasn't just to see the alarm of his captain's usually immobile face.

Of course not. That would be...unprofessional. And one thing Nori had promised to be when he was taken aboard the _Retribution_ and made a member of Thorin’s Company, was professional.


	2. Reference: The Khazad Mountains

The Khazad are a small but physically powerful species sometimes referred to as “dwarves.” They are an advanced race known for brilliant engineering as well as gorgeous metal work. According to legend, the Khazad all came from a single homeworld, Khazad-dum, which was lost centuries in the past because of attacks by the semi-mythical Balrog. During that time, the various Khazad colonies were also lost – often due to destruction of the planet’s atmosphere due to over-production, or to attacks by hostile species. For several generations, all Khazad save the Line of Durin have lived aboard huge ships, usually accompanied by a fleet of smaller, more maneuverable escort ships. The large ships are referred to by the Khazad as “Mountains.” The last Khazad colony, Erebor, was lost a century ago in an attack by the reptilian race known as the Smaug, making the Khazad an entirely ship-bound race. 

_SS Belegost_ : a Khazad Mountain which used to have a sister-mountain, the _Nogrod_ , which was completely destroyed during the War of Wrath. _Belegost_ is the oldest of the space-going ships, and the people (called Broadbeams), have lived so long on ships that they have no interest in living on a planet. In order to maintain genetic diversity and to avoid overpopulation, there are strict rules concerning reproduction on the _Belegost_ , which have been adapted by most of the other Mountains.

_SS Ered Luin_ : The _Ered Luin_ and her various escort ships are the home of Durin’s Folk, the only group of Khazad which still has a large living generation that grew up on a planet. The _Ered Luin_ was originally a large transport vessel called the _Lonely Mountain_ but was renamed when the planet was lost and the _Belegost_ assisted with redesigning and outfitting the ship for long term habitation. The _Belegost_ ’s lost planet was known as Ered Luin, so Durin’s Folk renamed their ship in honor of the Broadbeams. While it would traditionally be named after their own lost planet, Thror, the Heir of Durin at the time of the naming, insisted that Erebor could someday be retaken and would not use it as the ship's name. Since Thorin, the current Heir of Durin, left to train his heirs, the _Ered Luin_ has been under the direction of Vali, son of Varin, husband of the Crown Prince, Dis. 

_SS Moria_ ;: a ship lost to the Orcs approximately five centuries ago. The Moria has been in Orc space for centuries, but there was an attempt to retake it by Durin’s Folk, which failed and led to the deaths of Thror (Heir of Durin), Fundin, and others. 

_SS Iron Mountain_ : the ship of Dain Ironfoot, cousin to Thorin. _SS Iron Mountain_ is the largest of all the ships, with a population of over twenty thousand, and it has a fleet of forty smaller ships. The people of the _SS Iron Mountain_ do well, but because of the sheer magnitude of their population and refusal to adopt the reproduction rules, they are poorer than some smaller Khazad mountains. 

_SS Ered Mithrin_ : a ship of moderate size and age, the Ered Mithrin follows the rules of reproduction. The _Ered Mithrin_ has been almost completely rebuilt twice in its existence and is the most high-tech of the Khazad mountains. 

_Orocarni_ : actually a collective of four small Mountains that are joined by protective treaties. These Mountains trade young couples on a regular basis to maintain genetic diversity while also following some of the reproductive guidelines of the _Belegost_. Separately, the Ococarni ships are the _Red Mountain, Ered Engrin, Helcar_ , and _Zaghith._


	3. Prologue 2

Fíli sometimes thought he was born to fly.

That was nonsense of course; there was nothing natural about flying for dwarves. Dwarves were born to dig deep, to live surrounded by stone, not to soar among the stars, even if their cousins had done so for generations. But Fíli was born in a generation of Dwarves without a home, and the feel of earth under his boots was a rare treat, not a necessity.

But flying-

Flying he needed, like air.

Ships were one thing-Nori’s little pod maneuvered like a dream, especially in space, and Fíli’d “borrowed” his share of small hovercars over the years. Ships were fast, and they protected you on every side, metal and plastic and ceramic between you and the wind.

They had nothing on his bike.

His beloved Raven was danger, vertical drops from cargo bays, the sizzle of phaser fire, the wind whipping around him and the sound of Kíli’s wild laughter nearby, the sight of his brother slicing and spinning through the air.

The bike was his savior, his escape from jobs gone bad, sleek and dark in each world’s night. She was fresh air and wind, the scents of earth and flowers and rain instead of recyc and oil.

Raven was sensual, vibrating metal between his thighs, purring until Fíli was half hard and loving it. The Urs had designed her to respond to every shift of Fíli’s body, the clench of a knee, the rollof his hips, each sharp shift of his weight. Sometimes he swore she could read his mind, could hear Ori’s voice warning of danger, could sense when Kíli needed them.

There was only one thing better than flying on his bike, and that was flying with Kíli tucked tight against his back, arms around his waist. 

Sometimes he plucked his brother from the air, heart pounding, eyes sharp with adrenaline, Ori’s voice in his ear. Kíli would whoop as he slammed into place, the sharp metallic scent of his hoverboots cutting off as he wrapped himself around Fíli, hot and wild. Sometimes he swung around to protect his brother, shields hissing as phaser fire bounced was absorbed and dispersed with an electric cackle that made him shiver. 

Sometimes he felt his brother thrust against his back, high on adrenaline, hard and shouting encouragement in his ear as they darted back to Nori’s waiting ship.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight was peaceful – no one on their trail, no stolen cargo or fenced goods. They’d spent the day with the others on the little planet Balin found, perfectly suited to Ardan life; Balin figured it was an early terraforming experiment that, though successful, had yielded a planet too small for colonization. It had forests, though, and a handful of small lakes, and a proliferation of wildflowers. It had been fun, not worrying about missions or work for a day, remembering that the Company was a group of friends more like family, and not just a set of cogs set in place to bring money back to the Ered Luin. There were beaches, and they’d even managed to strong arm Ori into the water, splashing around under Dwalin’s overprotective eye.

But then the stars came out, and Fíli had tugged his brother off to be properly alone for a bit. Stars that twinkled, just the way Kíli liked them best, instead of cold and steady like they were aboard the cobbled together remains of the mountain ship that was their birthplace.

Kíli tucked his body against Fíli’s back, a decade of experience making it second nature. He pressed a kiss to Fíli’s neck, bare because of the thick braid now tucked into Fíli’s blue and black jacket – Kíli wasn’t keen on a face full of hair. “Ready,” he said, and Fíli grinned.

Raven was quiet in the air, silent on land – she had to be, in their line of work – but she always roared at take-off, and Fíli always growled right along with her, that lurch in his stomach as they left the ground and leapt up in defiance of gravity. 

Power.

Power thrumming through his groin and out through his fingertips and into the warmth of Kíli’s body-

“The clouds!” Kíli shouted, and Fíli obeyed, every movement in synch. 

Kíli’s erection, swelling against him, Kíli’s lips on the cold skin of his neck, Kíli’s hands, low on his belly, fingers stroking.

There had been a time when Fili didn’t know the touch of Kili’s fingers, the low moans he made in pleasure, the way his ears flushed and his eyes darkened with arousal. So hard to remember now, any day before he had this: his Raven and his lover and the sky.

They burst through the lower clouds, a bit light-headed, vapor clinging and flinging around them-

And stars, twinkling in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” Kíli breathed, his breath warm. He pressed his jaw to Fíli’s temple, keeping his lips close in the thin air.

Fíli gazed up at it, and thought of Kíli’s eyes. “It is.”

“Do you think Erebor is like this?” Awe in Kíli’s voice. “The stars?”

“They’ll be different,” Fíli answered, his voice soft. “We’ll see the constellations of our ancestors, the ones from Mother’s stories.”

They breathed together, melted into each other, and the silence whispered secrets of fear and adrenaline and love.

Peace.

Kíli nudged Fíli’s ear with his nose. “One day we’ll be up there,” he said, teasing in his voice. “We’ll be great heroes so someone will find just the right set of stars and call it The Lovers, and little kids will be told we’re dueling with swords until they’re old enough to figure out what’s really going on.”

“Mahal’s tits, Kíli, you always know how to ruin a gorgeous moment!” Fíli fussed, but he was laughing, and then Kíli was too, and his hand slid down and gave Fíli a warm squeeze.

The ground was warm and the grass was soft, and Kíli came all around Fíli with the reflection of stars in his eyes, a living constellation of everything that Fíli loved and wanted.


	4. Prologue 3

Bilbo Baggins was a Hobbit who worked diligently to appear as normal and un-extraordinary as the other Hobbits of Shire.

His traditional smial was kept clean and tidy, his larder was always full, and he took time every day to putter a bit in his garden. This last was only for show, as the glory of his garden had nothing to do with Bilbo, but instead was the work of his friend and gardener, Hamfast Gamgee. Had Bilbo been left in charge, everything would have died within a week. Hamfast was a creature of both knowledge and magic, as far as Bilbo was concerned.

His dress, too, was Hobbity, bright colored vests and trousers that left his handsome feet bare. He was, in fact, rather well dressed, being a gentle hobbit of some means and willing to spend fair coin on good clothing. The tailor in town was fond of him because he generally allowed the woman to do as she pleased; he was certainly no expert on fashion.

His disguise was so well crafted that his fellow Hobbits actually found Bilbo rather dull. A homebody, they called him, and tragically set on being a bachelor, despite being more than of age and fielding a number of offers in his 30’s. Old Baggins, they called him, for his regular and uninteresting habits, though he was not yet even fifty.

What none of Bilbo Baggins’s neighbors knew, because he saw to it and they didn’t, was that in the back most bedroom of Bilbo’s home, in one of the two rooms his parents had built for visiting Dúnedain, Bilbo had a computer system of such sleek complexity that it alone held more power than the single government computer tucked away in Buckland.

Shire was a planet that lived in the past. Hobbits had abandoned technological advancement in their industrial age, choosing caring for their planet over building industry. As a result, theirs was a quaint agriculture society, mired in history and tradition, pointedly ignoring an interstellar community that seemed to argue over every tiny detail.

The other races travelled the galaxy as they wished – the numerous if short-lived Atani, the mysterious and isolationist Elves, the ship-bound Khazad, even the Orcs who lurked at the edge of Ardan space. The Hobbits knew of these other races because of the Tooks, the only group of Hobbits who had the curiosity to welcome their first interstellar visitors several hundred years previous. 

Bilbo Baggins, owner of a secret computer system, was half Took.

Their protective isolation was ensured by their closest neighbors, the Dúnedain, who had taken on caring for the Hobbits centuries earlier. Exactly why this was, modern Hobbits didn’t know. It was simply accepted that the strangely long-living Atani would always provide Rangers in orbit and planet-side so that the Hobbits could focus on maintaining their simple way of life.

The Dúnedain had brought to Shire clean energy and farming implements, and in return, did some limited dealing with the rest of the galaxy on Shire’s behalf. Shire pipeweed and fine wooden handicrafts were in demand throughout the Arda. To facilitate this, one computer and communications system was built (in Buckland, lest any future Tooks be tempted to go too far; Bucklanders were reasonable, solid folk) and two satellites placed in orbit by the Dúnedain. A small group of Hobbits manned the communications relay; beyond that, the vast majority of Hobbits went about their lives as if they were the only beings in the universe.

But putting the communications system in Buckland hadn’t been enough to stop one Took - Bilbo’s mother, Belladonna, who became official envoy to the Dúnedain Rangers at the tender age of forty, and never looked back.

It was her mysterious friend Gandalf who merrily sneaked in her first small system, and by the time of her death, Belladonna had built, with the softly amused assistance of her husband, a computer system that connected her to worlds across the galaxy.

Bilbo had been raised on that system, and when his parents died, he inherited it along with his home, Bag End.

When he discovered how much information he could access over the computer, Bilbo dove in and began teaching himself concepts beyond the closest thing Hobbits had to scientists. It made him a bit of a hermit, perhaps, not as outgoing as other Hobbits, but given his lack of interest in long conversations about vegetables and sharp-tongued local gossip, Bilbo didn’t mind. Besides, keeping his veneer of near-normalcy forced him out of the house almost daily, so it was fine if he spent hours upon hours learning about technology.

It was even acceptable, or so he told himself, when he started dabbling in the mathematics of force field projection, while he was still a tween.

However-

. . . Even he couldn’t call it normal that he’d started messaging Atani all over the galaxy for more information on security and shielding systems, or that he went beyond theory and started building shielding systems, or that by his 40th birthday, Gandalf was his middle man in the sales of advanced shield technology to the interstellar community.

But, well.

He was a Took, cleverly disguised as a Baggins.

He could juggle his fascination with interstellar shield tech with his perfectly reasonable gentlehobbit lifestyle, surely.

And he did.

Until the day the ship with the overwrought name Retribution took orbit far above Shire, and a Khazad showed up on Bilbo’s doorstep.


	5. Reference: The Atani

Atani: also called humans or man, the Atani are the most numerous race in the Arda. Originally from the planet Beleriand (now abandoned), the Atani have colonized over two dozen planets and developed a number of languages. The Atani are a relatively short-lived species, but reproduce at a rate that cannot be matched by any other race save the Hobbits of Shire. The Atani colonies now exist as separate worlds with their own governments.

Major Atani planets include Rohan, Gondor, Arnor, Arthedain, Rhudaur, Numenor, with smaller colonies on planets and moons

Dúnedain: the Dúnedain are actually Atani, the first to travel and meet Elves in space. The Dúnedain and Elves had close ties in the Past, and the Elves gifted the Dúnedain with limited genetic resequencing which has extended their lifetimes to three times those of other Atani. The Dúnedain are, however, a very small group with limited reproduction as a similar side effect to those suffered by Elves. Their colony-turned-home-world is located in the same system as Shire, and they act as go-betweens for the Hobbits in dealing with the interstellar community.

Dale: a small colony of Atani situated on one of Erebor’s moons. Dale was settled through a treaty with the Line of Durin, and was in a close symbiotic relationship with the Khazad there until the arrival of the Smaug. Though the Smaug have ignored the largely agricultural moon, their presence has effectively cut Dale off from the rest of the Arda.


	6. Chapter One: Thorin

Thorin was aware that his Company would never claim he was an especially diplomatic person. Exactly how they would describe him depended on their social rank back aboard the Ered Luin - thehigher the status, the more…colorful the descriptions of Thorin’s temper and ability to deal with others. Dwalin, for example, was free to state the facts:

“You come across as an arrogant prick, Thorin. Take someone with you or Mithrandir’s likely to turn you into a toad, and with good reason.”

It was because of this fact – seconded by his sister Dis, who also added that if he was a toad she would buy a tank and make him Kíli’s pet - that Thorin agreed to take Balin along when he met with Mithrandir concerning their need for a specialist who could break their way through Erebor’s shields.

No one knew precisely what Mithrandir was – though he looked Atani, stories went back generations about him, too far even for one of the Dunedain. He had known Thorin’s grandfather, and there were rumors that he had powers beyond the scope of scientific understanding, the sort bandied about as “magic” by less enlightened peoples. 

Thorin wasn’t concerned with rumors. What he cared about was his need for someone with sufficient genius in software engineering as it pertained to security systems. Mithrandir said he knew exactly the person Thorin needed; his age and species were of lesser concern. Thorin was no Elf, more concerned with soaking up random knowledge than helping other worlds and races. Even his name was of no great interest. When Mithrandir told Thorin that those other than the Khazad referred to him as Gandalf, Thorin simply shrugged and played along.

He did, however, question the old man’s judgement when Gandalf informed him that his hacker was to be found, not on one of the Khazad ships or an Atani world or even among the thrice-cursed Elves, but instead on Shire.

Shire.

Where technology went to die.

“This is a waste of time,” he muttered to his sister as Balin and Nori laid in the course. His ramshackle ship rumbled beneath his feet as she turned, showing her age as she so often did. “No Hobbit can break the shield around Erebor.”

“Gandalf thinks he can,” Dis returned mildly. 

“And he wants me to haul everyone down there, like some ridiculous parade, and attend a ridiculous Hobbit,” his voice caught on a snarl, “dinner party!”

Dis snorted indelicately. “I imagine Mithrandir’s right. It’s probably best Mr. Boggins know what he’s getting into from the beginning.”

Thorin scowled out the viewport, crossing his arms in agitation. “We’ll probably horrify his delicate Hobbit sensibilities. Do you know I’ve heard them compared to rabbits?”

Dis patted his shoulder in a way that managed to be both consoling and mocking. This was a special skill only she had. “I’ll tell everyone to be on their best behavior,” she assured him.

And really, they were.

Dwalin had insisted on going in alone at first; he was a dwarf who took his responsibilities as head of Thorin’s personal and ship’s security very seriously. When Dwalin had muttered the all-clear into his left wrist bracer, Nori began to shuttle them down in groups of four.

Thorin, at Dis’s suggestion, arrived last. 

“Give me and the boys a chance to warm him up a bit,” his sister told him, “before you come glaring your way into his house.”

Thorin arrived alone as well, having piloted down in the Retribution’s small hopper ship. No one but Nori was allowed to fly his beloved darling. They had been forced by Shire law to land a good distance from the Hobbit’s home, and the resultant walk was actually longer than the flight down. 

The town where Gandalf’s Hobbit lived was called, of all ridiculous things, Hobbiton. And every bit of Hobbiton looked like every other bit, all soft and green and rolling, without a bit of proper stone above ground to serve as a guide. It was all very…quaint. And boring. And perhaps, though Thorin would never admit it, he got a bit turned around at one or another matching little round door. 

He did find his way in the end to the green door with Gandalf’s mark.

Thorin paused for a moment, listening. Exactly how his sister thought a rousing chorus about everything Bilbo Baggins hated would be a help in calming the Hobbit down Thorin didn’t know. She had always been a mysterious creature.

When Bilbo Baggins opened the door, Gandalf hulking behind him, he looked tiny, terribly frazzled and more than a little pissed off. Behind him, Fíli and Kíli stood at the head of Thorin’s entire nosy, noisy, beloved Company hurrying down the hall to witness everything of interest. Their presence only made the Hobbit look even smaller and softer.

Baggins looked more like a cup -sized Atani grocer than an expert computer hacker, and Thorin said so.

Baggins straightened up, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “Let me just show you my back room while this lot,” he turned a stern eye on the Company, “clean up the mess they made.”

Bofur was the only one who looked the least bit contrite, but they did move to do as instructed. Within seconds, plates were flying gracefully through the air, and Nori was expertly kicking detritus off the table into a bag held by Bofur.

Not unlike meals aboard ship, except, Thorin saw to some degree of heartbreak, this meal had involved actual meat, fresh bread, and vegetables – not the nutrition gruel they’d been living off for the last two very long weeks to Shire. 

He silently cursed little green hills that looked exactly like all the other little green hills, and sisters with clearly ineffective master plans.

Thorin, his stomach grumbling at the thought of all that fresh food, followed the Hobbit down his winding back hall, which at least curved appropriately underground. It had been too long since Thorin was surrounded by stone as a Khazad should be. 

He worried, sometimes, about his people becoming so comfortable in space that they forgot the comfort of stone, the touch of gold under their fingertips. 

Baggins paused briefly at the final door on the curving hall, his fingertips resting against the polished wooden knob. They tapped once, twice, three times, before his shoulders jerked and he pushed the door open.

“See for yourself,” he said, and his eyes were narrowed with challenge even as his voice rose an octave due to nerves.

Thorin stepped forward into the most advanced computer lab he had seen in his entire life.

His jaw, trained from birth to remain hard and stationary, dropped.

“My grandfather Baggins was a grocer,” came the Hobbit’s pleasant voice, but his gaze was sharp. “He was respected throughout the entire farthing. He was strong, and fair, and interested in exactly what Hobbits are meant to be interested in.”

Thorin turned toward him. Baggins’ hands were curling in and out of fists. “I am clearly not a grocer. Nor am I respected by the entire farthing, or interested in exactly what I’m meant to be interested in.” He raised his chin a bit, defiant. “But I have built shielding systems you couldn’t hope to afford, and spoken with Elves and Atani and even the Wizard Gandalf.”

The system beeped an alarm, and the Hobbit reached out to touch one screen, which flashed across DNA information before settling back into silence.

“I’m not a grocer, and I’m not respectable, but I know computers, and I’m betting if Gandalf brought you here, that’s exactly what you need.”

Thorin looked at Bilbo Baggins again. Still small, still soft around the middle, his hair a mass of curls, his face round and hairless as a babe’s, but-

Thorin nodded. “I have much to tell you, to make it clear.”

The Hobbit relaxed, just a little. “Not on an empty stomach!” he announced. “There’s at least enough for a proper stew.”

And he marched out on bare feet, a Hobbit on a mission and a king of Khazad upon his heels.


	7. Chapter Two: Dis

Dis was only a girl when her brother jerked her into his arms and ran with her from their family home.

She didn’t understand everything – nine years old and clinging to Thorin in fear – but her people were screaming and her grandfather was missing and Thorin shoved her in Frerin’s arms and yelled, “Get her to the mountain!”

Frerin wasn’t big enough to carry her, and she cried and reached for Thorin and cried for her mama, but her biggest brother wouldn’t take her.

“Where are you going?” Frerin demanded, his voice cracking, and usually that made Dis laugh but now it made her scared.

Frerin was afraid.

He was never afraid.

“I have to find Grandfather,” Thorin told them, and he was young too, barely a hint of a beard and his hair a tangle, but he seemed so much older. “Go to the Mountain and stay there. Don’t leave for any reason. And don’t let go of Dis.” He grabbed their brother’s shoulders, looking Frerin straight in the eye. “Promise me, Frerin.”

Frerin’s chin shook, but he met Thorin’s gaze and swallowed and said, “I promise.”

He kept his promise. He pulled her to the port, and onto a transport, surrounded by people as more screamed to get in, and held her in his lap as they broke free of Erebor’s atmosphere and connected with the Lonely Mountain in orbit.

She’d been on the Mountain before, of course. It was shiny and new and exciting, a ship as big as the main Iron Mountain, designed for asteroid mining or long travel or helping their fellow dwarves, whatever it was needed for. She’d learned about it from her tutor and stood on the Bridge and looked down at Erebor and seen how beautiful her planet was. She’d seen the twin moons of Dale, covered in bright lights. 

She’d decided then and there that she was going to work on a ship one day. She might as well, since she could never be king. She was fourth in line, and four was a lot.

It wasn’t fun this time.

And all she wanted to do was go home.

There were hundreds aboard the ship, a thousand, more, until Dis couldn’t count anymore and Fundin found them and whisked them away to where his two sons and other noble children were tucked in and office. “Stay here,” he said, and left Balin, who was even older than Thorin, in charge.

That was all she knew for a long time.

She never saw the great red ship in orbit between the Dales, didn’t know that the panic of her people came from the knowledge that it was a ship of the Smaug.

She didn’t know the Smaug conquered planets, wiped them clean of life, and mined them until it was only a shell floating in space.

She knew only that she was afraid, and something was wrong.

And that she never saw her father again.

—

Soup was procured for Thorin when he returned with the Hobbit, and introductions were made, and Thorin would have talked without giving Mr. Baggins a seat at his own table if Dis hadn’t been there to set him straight.

Dis sometimes tried to imagine Thorin’s life without a sister to keep an eye on him, but it was too terrible a thought to contemplate. As much as she hated being away from her husband, there was no doubt that this hobbit would have been well within his rights to kick them out in the cold, and Thorin wouldn’t have been able to come up with enough charm to stop him.

“Please, Mr. Baggins, do sit down,” she said, and Mr. Baggins eyed her with an odd mixture or weariness and approval as he did so.

“We came here expecting you to be fully apprised of our situation,” she said, a bit loudly as she was pointedly speaking over her brother. “Out intermediary said that you’d already agreed to work with us.”

“Intermediary?” Baggins looked around the table. “Do you mean Gandalf?”

“Yes indeed.” Dis patted Thorin’s hand. There was murder in his eyes, so it was probably a good thing Gandalf hadn’t shown his pointy nose here. “We asked him to contract a specialist in shields and programming to assist us in retaking our home world from the Smaug.”

Baggins’ jaw dropped. 

“The Smaug,” he squeaked.

“Aye,” Bofur offered from down the table, and Dis loved him to bits but if he teased the hobbit she would- “The chiefest and greatest calamity of our age, hovering above Erebor, royally pissed off because they can’t get down to the surface. And we’d like you to go and have a crack at ‘em.”

Dis leaned across the table and tried to whap him a good one, but she couldn’t reach.

So Nori did it for her, definitely employing the appropriate amount of violence.

“Not helping,” she hissed, as Bofur turned his best puppy dog eyes on them both. It didn’t work. The three of them had known each other too long.

—-

Normally, they would never have met.

On Erebor, royal children were kept well separate from commoners, but Dis, Nori, and Bofur didn’t grow up on Erebor.

They grew up on the Ered Luin.

Separating children by class wasn’t so important when they were scrambling to learn to live as their fellow dwarves had for generations. Instead, it was more about keeping the children corralled and busy. Bored dwarflings were no good for anyone, especially anyone living inside a breakable ship.

So as the adults in her life dealt with treaties and meetings and long conferences with the kings and lords of other mountains, little Dis was placed, along with all the other surviving small children, under the watchful eye of teachers and older children. Thorin was considered old enough to attend meetings, but Frerin was among the “older children” category. For the first few weeks, her brother wouldn’t let Dis out of his sight, but eventually familiarity creeped in, and he started to leave her be.

Thank goodness.

A girl couldn’t make friends with her princely brother running interference and glowering at everyone.

And Frerin was the nice one. Thank goodness Thorin was old enough to stay busy.

Even without a princeling looking over her shoulder, fitting in with other children was no easy task. Each child had been told who Dis was, and that they had to be respectful. Among dwarflings who had already been through so much, “respectful” quickly morphed into something like fear. No child wanted to get into trouble with all the adults in their lives so nervous and tense.

So Dis found herself quite alone.

At least until the day a boy near her age, dressed in sturdy brown leather and wool, tossed his braids over his shoulders and marched over to her during the dwarflings’ lunch hour. There was a gasp of surprise from his fellows – all the children of miners, once the most common of dwarves and now rare.

Most of the miners had been too deep to get out in time.

The boy’s hair was messier than Dis’s family would ever allow, and his boots were so scuffed they must have belonged to plenty of cousins before him, but he looked her straight in the eye and said:

“Is that a cheese sandwich?”

Dis looked up at him, and then down at the sandwich Thorin had made for her that morning. There wasn’t very much fresh food left aboard, and the cheese was a treat. She hoped she wasn’t going to have to fight for it.

But if she did, she was gonna go for the eyeballs.

“Yes.”

The boy shifted from foot to foot before he offered, “I have our last jam sandwich. Do you wanna trade halves?”

Dis stared at him.

“You don’t have to,” the boy said, rubbing a ragged wrist on his nose. “I’m just offerin’.”

The princess looked between the boy’s face and his sandwich. Her heart was beating fast – someone her own age, what was she supposed to do? She’d always been the baby around older siblings and cousins-

“Okay,” she said, trying to sound confident, and the boy grinned, big and gap-toothed for the moment, before he plopped cheerfully down beside her.

“Bofur,” he said, tearing his sandwich carefully in half, “son of Kefur.”

“Dis,” she answered, picking up her neatly sliced sandwich and handing him his share, “daughter of Freya.”

Bofur grinned again. “Dis is kind of a funny name.”

Dis stuck her tongue out.

Bofur grinned.

And a gloriously unconventional and generally inappropriate friendship was born.

~~~~~~

Convincing a peaceful Hobbit that he should leave his planet – something no Hobbit had ever done – and face the most feared race in the galaxy was no small feat. Dis left Thorin to it, trusting Bofur and Balin to act as buffers if her brother became too abrasive. He was actually trying, in his way, to be friendly, she just wasn’t sure a Hobbit would read it as such.

The rest of the Khazad scattered, so as to be less overwhelming (twelve aliens in your dining room was rather a lot, and poor Mr. Baggins had been horrified when Fíli had to walk down his table to hand out drinks and reach his seat). Her boys she found sitting on top of the home’s gentle swell, cheerfully drinking Mr. Baggins’ ale and leaning comfortably against each other. Kíli laughed, a little too loud as always, and Fíli looked quietly amused, crinkles at the edges of his eyes.

Her heart warmed.

The thought of her boys, home, with stone under their feet and soaring over their heads, made everything worth it.

“You’ll want to talk to them before clothes come off and the Hobbits get an eyeful.”

The voice seemed to come from nowhere, but Dis knew the owner too well. A quick glance revealed a flash of brown and blue in one of the tall trees that lined the main road. “There you are,” she said, turning and tilting her head back. “I wanted to thank you for bopping Bofur for me in there.”

Nori rolled his eyes. “He was being a brat and he knew it. He deserved more than he got, and so do you for using the phrase ‘bopping Bofur.’” He looked down at her with his crooked little smile. Nori was well up in the tree – always a climber, not proper Khazad behavior at all – managing to lean against the trunk as if he had materialized there instead of climbing. He nodded to the little hill of the Hobbit’s home. “Ori was with them for a while, but he knows them too well to stay around when they’re getting in their cups and what flimsy excuses for inhibitions they have start to fade away.”

Dis laughed. Her boys were actually quite well behaved most of the time, fully aware that the others didn’t have the loves of their lives aboard the Retribution. But they did enter a highly cuddly mode when ale was involved, and it had gotten out of hand, ah. Once or twice.

“I’ll talk to them.”

“Oh, let them have their fun. There’s five bedrooms I that smial and they should have one of them. Just make sure it’s in a bedroom and not on the roof.” His face turned serious and still, as it did. “The months ahead aren’t going to be easy for any of us.”

“But the reward-”

“Might be worth it,” he interrupted, “if we all survive to see it.”

Not a natural optimist, Nori. But she couldn’t blame him.

Their mission was impossible, and they had already been away so long.

“We will,” she answered with the determination of the powerful. After all, why else was she here, away from her people and the warmth of her husband so long, if not to see that this company was alive and well at the end of their journey.

Nori snorted. “If willpower could defeat the Smaug, we could send you in alone.” She grinned up at him, and he shook his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“Of course.” She waved a hand. She knew why he was out here, even if he’d never confess to it. He was more like Dori than he would ever admit, worrying and fussing over his Ori and her boys. He could go exploring now that she was here to take over. 

“Exploring” often being synonymous with “snooping,” which was how he knew just how many bedrooms their Mr. Baggins had. 

Nori nodded, and there was a flash of his vulpine smile as he blended into the dark.

He was so quick, and so silent, and so different, and so much a part of how Dis survived from day to day. They’d been inseparable so long, the three of them: the princess, the miner, and the thief.

~~~~~~~~~

Orphans were a natural result of the attack on Erebor.

No child would tease another about lost parents, not when they’d lost so many themselves. But children will always find reasons to be cruel, and targets to attack, if they’re not taught better. And the Khazad, who valued directness over subterfuge, sometimes erred on the side of a blunt cruelty. 

The adults were so busy surviving that the children weren’t always taught the line between honesty and meanness.

And so it was Nori, whose mother lived, who came under attack from his fellows.

“My dad said your mama’s a whore.”

“My aunt said there were lots of good people who died, so why should your family live?”

“My dad said-”

Nori curled up against them then, not the sarcastic, sharp-tongued, deadly Khazad he would be in later years. He was only a boy, several years younger than Dis and Bofur, and he was tired and scared and overwhelmed, and his big brother was gone for the day, which is why they could get away with this.

No one mentioned their mother’s profession in Dori’s hearing. He’d broken several noses already.

It was Bofur who stood first, his friendly face screwed up in a scowl. Dis grabbed for him, tugged at his arm.

“They’re being mean,” he said, pulling.

“Then they’ll be mean to us!”

Bofur looked down at her, and there was disappointment in his face. “That doesn’t matter,” he said, and Dis blinked up at him.

She’d always been taught that having the people like you made you a stronger leader.

“Mama’s with the guild,” Nori piped up behind his arms, because that’s what Dori always said. Dis didn’t really understand what that meant, and when she asked Thorin he’d looked offended and told her she wasn’t old enough to know yet. 

…Then he’d muttered she might never be old enough to know.

She hated it when he said that!

“I’m going to help him,” Bofur announced.

Dis hesitated only a second before bouncing to her feet, determination in her eyes.

She wasn’t going to be king, anyway. Thorin was.

When they spoke, it was with one voice:

“Leave him alone!”

“Don’t you tell us what to do!” one of the bullies hissed, but another grabbed her arm and whispered, “It’s the princess!”

As the bullies grumbled and complained and finally walked away, Dis realized for the first time in her life that being princess…might not be so bad.

Maybe she couldn’t be friends with everyone, and maybe they were kind of scared of her, but she had Thorin and Frerin and Bofur-

And, she learned very quickly, a fast-fingered, sharp-eyed little Nori as well.


	8. Snippit: In Hobbiton

Fili and Kili weren’t given to drinking to excess. They never quite knew when they might be called into action, and flying with a belly full of ale was an excellent way to die. But there was something so relaxing and safe about the Shire that they dipped their mugs more than once into Mr. Baggins’ rich golden brew (well, perhaps not dipped so much as gushed, once they figured out the ancient - style casks these Hobbits used). 

As a result, they were pleasantly warm when they wandered away from the crowded living room, and could perhaps be forgiven for selecting the smial’s grassy roof as the best place to sit and relax a while.

Being up high was, after all, the way they lived their lives.

Or it could have been the crisp splash of stars against an unblemished sky that drew them out into the night, the cool grass under their fingertips and the warmth of each others arms as they curled together and searched the night for possible Hobbit constellations.

“There’s a gherkin,” Kili murmured in his warmest, most satisfied voice. His breath ruffled the soft spice of Fili’s hair - always his favorite place to keep his nose, when the opportunity arose. 

Fili had one hand low on his brother’s back, fingers dipping teasingly in the waist of Kili’s jeans. When he spoke, his voice was carefully thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure,” he said solemnly, “that’s a dick.”

“Hobbits don’t see dicks!” Kili, despite his own lack of personal shame (something no one on a crowded ship could have if they wanted a regular sex life), sounded terribly scandalized. 

Fili laughed, a sound that echoed low in his throat and always made Kili shiver. “Considering the dozens of little Hobbits we saw running around, I have a feeling Hobbits see lots of dicks.”

Bad jokes are immeasurably funnier after a heavy dose of honeyed mead, and Kili’s giggles would have sent him rolling right past the big green door had Fili not saved him by snatching his waist and rolling on top of him, kissing Kili’s grinning mouth with tipsy delight.

Kisses heated immediately into petting and wandering fingers - callouses on sensitive stomachs, catching on the whirls of hair and scrapping over hard-won muscle-

Kili had his hands on the second button of Fili’s butter soft leather pants when something hard and a bit pointy cracked against his lover’s ear.

“Oi!” Fili yelped, twisting up, a small knife suddenly in his hand-

Only to be stopped by a voice as familiar as either of their parents’.

“That’s quite enough for you two,” Nori said crisply as his well-aimed pinecone bounced down the gentle slope. “Just because everyone on board the ship is used to your public groping, doesn’t mean you need to blind the locals. Take it inside.”

Fili sat up (doing a certain degree of accidentally wonderful things around Kili’s thighs) and rubbed his head ruefully. He was fairly certain he’d lost a golden hair or three in Nori’s assault. “How much privacy are you expecting in a smial’s stuffed with thirteen dwarves?”

“Plenty for you two brats. There’s a back room.”

Kili wiggled a bit, catching his brother’s eye with a teasing grin. “We always have our own room.”

“Ah,” Nori said, “but you’ve not seen this bed.”

He grinned.

Fili and Kili exchanged a look, then a cheerful kiss, and jumped down. “Well, we wouldn’t want to be rude. Not when rooms have been offered.” 

Kili opened the heavy door, muttering about the secrets of Hobbit strength. Fili was just stepping through when Nori’s dry voice added:

“And Fili’s right. That constellation is clearly a great and honorable phallus.” A pause. “With wings.”

Fili’s approving laughter almost drowned out Kili’s protest of betrayal.


	9. Chapter Three: Bofur

When morning came, it was Bofur who volunteered to stay behind and wait for their newest crewmember to awaken. The Khazad were up and about early by Shire time, kept as they were on the time that they’d once followed on Erebor and refusing to change over to the intership time set by the _Belegost_. Bofur didn’t mind a bit more time to putter around, finishing up the last bit of cleaning and contemplating how he was going to introduce a Hobbit who had never left his continent to the wildness of space.

Bilbo’s first question didn’t set his mind at ease.

“Will I need a good coat, then?”

“Ah, aye,” Bofur said, a bit flustered by the combination of nut brown curls and bare cheeks, “space is a mite cold.”

He’d be lucky if Bilbo didn’t pass out on the flight up.

Bofur’s first proper introduction was to Nori’s _Jackrabbit_ , waiting to take them up. “The _Retribution_ can land in a pinch,” Bofur explained as he helped Bilbo step aboard, the Hobbit’s eyes wide but his twitching nose wary, “but the _Gingerhopper_ ’s a lot more maneuverable.”

A growl came from the front seat, familiar and annoyed. Bofur grinned as Nori turned and glared at him. “My ship,” he said with the sort of deep irritation that only comes from decades of friendship, “is called the _Jackrabbit_ , and welcome aboard Mr. Baggins. Make sure you strap in.”

Bilbo turned white when they lifted off the ground, but not green, and he tightened his jaw like a pro as they burst through the clouds and into the flame of the atmosphere.

Bofur’d had his suspicions Bilbo Baggins was tougher than he looked.

“Getting to know the _Retribution_ ,” Bofur said as he took the Hobbit’s cold hands in his own – trembling a little, but steady on his feet – and helped him out onto the ship’s small bay, “is really about getting to know her crew.”

“I met everyone last night..”

“But you didn’t _speak_ to them,” Bofur said, “and you don’t know what all our jobs are! Nori, for example, is one of our pilots. He can pilot the whole _Retribution_ -”

“Pardon you,” Nori said quietly as he ran checks on his beloved _Jackrabbit_ , “but I’ve been at the helm of the entire _Ered Luin_.”

“Oh do pardon me!” Bofur bowed deeply. “I didn’t meant to underemphasize your extreme importance to the universe at large. Nori can pilot _anything_ , up to and including a planet with a few jets attached. But here, he mostly works with the ground team transporting to and from planets.”

“The ground team?”

“Yeah, the kiddos, but they’re a little later in the tour.” Bofur grinned. “We’re under the ship, in the landing bay, so it makes sense to start here and go up.”

“All right,” Bilbo answered, nose twitching. “Who…do I get to know first?”

“Well…me, of course!” Bofur grinned, grabbing the Hobbit’s heavy pack and pulling it over his own shoulders. “Bofur, son of Kefur, ship’s mechanic and general inventing genius. Since we’re near engineering, we’ll start there.”

He stuck out a hand under Nori’s amused eye.

Bilbo took it and shook solemnly.

Bilbo relaxed somewhat as they travelled the ship. Engineering – the chaotic organization that was Bofur’s base of operations, complete with Bifur fiddling with Kíli’s skates and a screen where Bofur’s brother Bombur conferred with them from back aboard the Ered Luin – was interesting enough for Bilbo’s hands to stop shaking and his fingers to start poking. As long as he didn’t disrupt Bifur’s tiny chips, that was no problem – and despite having to wait for Bofur to translate Bifur’s sign language, Bilbo was polite to him. 

From there, they found Fíli and Kíli mucking about the living area, double checking the small room they’d converted on the way to the Shire so Bilbo would have a place to stay. The ship’s ground team were fluffing Bilbo’s single pillow while chattering between themselves about the luxuriant mattresses back at Bilbo’s smial. He didn’t trust their tone – he figured they were up to something.

They were incredibly friendly though, welcoming Bilbo aboard, giving him a personal tour of his tiny new home while Kíli chattered away. 

“-sure you remember us, we’re so memorable with our innate excitement and stunning good looks, but I’m Kíli, the young and attractive one, this is Fíli, the old one. We go down on planets and do all the stuff the folks up here don’t want to do. And wait till you see Fíli on his bike!”

Kíli’s conversation followed them through the mess, where they ran across Balin, “ship’s navigator and most longsuffering dwarf in existence,” Oin, “doctor extraordinaire who refuses to wear his hearing aide because it’s easier to ignore us this way,” and Dori, “acquisitions and provider of delicious meals and even better drinks,” who were having tea. Ori dropped in and was immediately shuffled between the young princes, where he was introduced as “our incredible savior in the sky, Ori son of Kyori, haver of two overprotective elder brothers.”

“He’s our communications officer,” Bofur explained while Bilbo watched everyone, wide-eyed. “Which means he always mans the comms between the ship and Fíli and Kíli on the planet when they have missions.”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Fíli said evenly, an ocean of calm in Ori and Kíli’s chattering conversation. “We have a few runs scheduled en route, supplies that will keep us in the air without having to rendezvous with the _Ered Luin_ before we get to Erebor.”

Their last stop was the largest part of the ship next to the engineering and power bays: the main bridge, where their king and captain Thorin (“You’ve met, and yeah, he always looks that grumpy”) was in conversation with their prince and first officer Dis (“Oh, Fíli and Kíli are her sons, in case you missed that; bless her soul”) and ships monetary officer Gloin (“He holds the purse strings very _very_ tightly”) were discussing their supply situation. Dwalin, their huge head of security, was currently in the pilot’s seat. 

When Bofur drew Bilbo over and forced Dwalin to be sociable, the big dwarf said shortly, “Thanks for the cookies.”

Bilbo’s smile was a bit tight.

He hadn’t, perhaps, intended for Dwalin to eat all the cookies, leaving none at all for a several months’ trip in deep space.

It did, however, distract their Hobbit from the wide image of open stars, streaking past in the darkness.

A Hobbit in space.

Absolutely impossible.

But then, so was a handful of dwarves taking back their planet from a race of mad reptilians.


	10. Chapter Four: Jhili

In the absence of his captain and king, Jhili, son of Jhani, Consort to the Crown Prince of Erebor, served as acting commander of the wandering _Ered Luin_.

Jhili looked the part of a Khazad captain. Born and raised on the huge and crowded Iron Mountain and a (too young) veteran of the disastrous attempt to retake the _Moria_ , Jhili was tall, broad, and strong, very much the build of his cousin Dain. Trained as a combat pilot, he had learned to fight hand-to-hand in the mess of war and in a desperate bid for survival; but survive he did, despite the twisted scar that curved around the right side of his neck. 

He walked through the halls of the _Luin_ with confidence and power, one axe handle at his hip and another across his back, thick and heavy in his hands as energy blades arched forth at his command. In war, a wild smile twisted his easy-going features and roars rumbled from his chest – in peace, he listened carefully and trusted his officers to know their jobs. He was a solid, dependable dwarf, just noble enough to marry the heir to the crown and serve as commander in a king’s absence.

Despite his looks and his qualifications, however, Jhili didn’t command alone. Most of the decisions were made by Frerin – the fallen Prince.

They met every morning at ship’s dawn, when the lights warmed from dark blue to pink and violet. Jhili would make his way to the small kitchen shared by members of the senior staff, walking in to the glorious smell of fresh coffee. No matter what they might be eating, whether fresh food or nutrient paste, Frerin always had fresh coffee. He was, unabashedly, an addict. He was also a morning person.

Jhili was not.

It took at least one cup of coffee and the flow of Frerin’s easy conversation before Jhili was awake enough to discuss ship’s business. Frerin was energetic and kind and brilliant, the perfect crown prince, save one thing-

Frerin, veteran of the battle for _Moria_ , was paralyzed from the chest down.

And the Khazad, for all their advanced culture and incredible technology, were terribly backward about the thought of a disabled king who needed help and care.

And so Frerin, once Thorin’s heir, became a sidestep of nobility, in line for nothing but carrying all the responsibility thereof. He had the training and knowledge, the drive and interest to lead. He lacked only the ability to move easily and live independently that was so important to their people.

And Jhili, friend, confidante, and eventual brother-in-law, became the body and Frerin the mind of the Commander. Thorin himself had selected Jhili for the job. Jhili…

Jhili was not always pleased with the honor.

“Thorin reports that they have Baggins aboard,” Frerin said, sensing that Jhili was reaching full awareness with his second cup of blessed bitterness and caffeine. “They’ll continue on to pick up supplies at the Lone Planet before beginning the route to Erebor.”

Jhili grunted.

He didn’t speak often of Thorin. Why should he? Thorin had aboard his small ship all that Jhili held dear: Jhili’s family, his laughing wife, his beautiful sons.

Frerin paused a moment before saying gently, “Did you get the attached communique from Fíli and Kíli?”

Jhili smiled despite himself. “I did. Young fools, they, going on about how the air smelled and what the beer was like and dedicating a full half hour to the wonder of Hobbit mattresses. Not a word about sailing off into danger.”

“Of course not,”Frerin said with a grin. “Mattresses are important. And beer, well. No more needs to be said.

Jhili gulped down the last of his coffee and glared down into his cup. “Did he-” he took a breath, shook his head against the childish desire not to say his king’s name out loud. “Did Thorin leave any orders?”

“…You can watch the message yourself, you know. It is for both of us.”

Jhili knew. The messages arrived not for Jhili or for Frerin, but for _The Commander_ , this combined entity the consort and prince had somehow become over the last two decades. Outside of this room, Frerin’s role was an open secret; inside it, he was acknowledged for what he was. “And?” he asked, not looking into Frerin’s eyes – brown, like Kíli’s. Kíli was, in so many ways, a near-copy of his uncle. It hurt sometimes to look at him. 

Jhili missed his boys every moment of every day.

Frerin sighed. He always wanted peace, and that was hard to come by when Jhili and Thorin were involved. “Only to keep the ship together and continue dealing carefully with the other mountains.”

The traitors, Thorin called them under his breath, for their refusal to throw ships and lives against Erebor’s shields and the Smaug ships, as they had at the bloodbath that was _Moria_ .

“So continue as we are and hope for the best?” Jhili clarified.

Frerin nodded. “As usual.” With delicate touches of his fingertips to the control pad, Frerin directed the hoverchair he used to navigate the ship to the oven. Straps across his chest held him to the chair, and Jhili rose automatically to help when Frerin opened the oven and the delicious scent of fresh scones filled the air.

They worked perfectly as a team after all these years.

\-----

Frerin and Jhili met, as so many Khazad did, at the siege on _Moria_ . They’d both been too young to be there, but they weren’t the only warriors not quite of age called into service – a massive force was needed, and anyone who had basic training was allowed and encouraged to attend. Their bond had formed quickly and easily; Jhili was fascinated by a boy his own age born planetside, and Frerin fascinated by just the opposite.

Their friendship survived the war. And injuries that nearly killed them both.

At the end of the disastrous battle, Jhili was one of twelve Iron Mountain volunteers who volunteered for transfer to the _Ered Luin_ , where they were to train pilots in deep space battle simulations. It was on the bridge of a small battleship that Jhili first met the beautiful, feisty, unstoppable Dis, daughter of Freya. 

In fact, the first time he saw her, she was doing what no one else dared do after Frerin’s accident: yelling and ranting and telling off his chair-bound best friend as if he hadn’t changed a bit since before the battle. It had something to do with their shared bathroom in the family home, and Frerin looked slightly terrified.

“You just don’t understand,” Frerin protested over beers and Jhili’s ringing laughter later, “I love that she treats me like she always has, but she’s also a little too terrifying about how to properly clean and store toothbrushes!”

Jhili didn’t believe in love at first sight, but it was a near thing. 

Unfortunately for the young suitor, the newly-crowned King Thorin and Jhili’s matrilineal cousin King Dain took an immediate liking to the idea of Jhili and Dis as a couple, and actively encouraged it. Dis, stubborn and well-aware of the occasional tendency of spacefaring Khazad to arrange pairings to encourage friendships and genetic diversity, immediately put her foot down.

“Absolutely not! No one is telling me who to marry!” she snapped, very nearly looking Thorin in the eye and glaring in Jhili’s direction. “Forget it!”

They’d barely even said hello.

Dis was stubborn, but so was Jhili (their boys never stood a chance). He held many a one-sided conversation with Dis’s profile or her (excellent) backside before she thawed enough to let him train her-

“I’m told you’re the best. Don’t get any ideas, though. I am not for sale.” 

-and a further two years of training and laughter and shared interests before she admitted that perhaps she was interested “despite your ridiculous hair” (he still shaved a good chunk of his head, much to her eye rolling dismay; Dis liked running her fingers through the golden waves more than being poked with sharp hairs around his ears).

Their first date was in a ship, darting through the bright streaks of a nebula.

They were married eighteen months later. Frerin thought it was hilarious, but he still stood at Jhili’s side and grinned as they all became family.

Jhili loved being married. He adored waking up with a warm, sleepy Dis in his arms. He liked making breakfast and Dis making lunch and the two of them elbowing each other through dinner preparation. He loved date nights and having someone to call when he was annoyed and knowing that he had promised himself forever to the most beautiful, clever, and occasionally grumpy woman in the world.

The Durin temper was a very, very real thing.

Jhili loved being a husband, but that was nothing, nothing on being a father.

When his sweet Fíli was first placed in his hands, wet and squalling and red, Jhili definitely learned to believe in love at first sight.

Jhili changed diapers and helped with feeding and carted his son around the ship, showing him off proudly to anyone who cared to look. Fíli’s hair came from Jhili but his looks were inherited straight from his mother. When Kíli was born (that tiny Frerin that he was), Jhili’s heart felt like it expanded to near-bursting with the amount of love and adoration he felt when Dis would curl up, Kíli at her breast and Fíli snuggled to her side, a picture of peace and perfection.

Jhili was a fierce warrior and a quiet watcher and a dedicated lover and a loving father. 

And then-

His boys not even in their majority, fifty-five and sixty-

Thorin came up with the idea of the Retribution. A ship dedicated to securing funds not only for the _Ered Luin_ , but for a mad plan to retake Erebor. 

As if a planet was worth their lives.

Years among them hadn’t made Jhili understand the _Ered Luin_ ’s obsession with soil. 

Thorin spoke of taking along Jhili’s boys – taking this away – as if it was no more important than the parts of his plan about getting ship parts or recruiting a good engineering team. 

“-and of course, Fíli and Kíli, with some special training-”

“No. Absolutely not.” A look at Dis, into her blue eyes. “He can’t be serious.”

And she had-

Dis had-

Agreed.

Had helped talk him into it.

Had-

Two decades, most of those spent apart, and Jhili could still see his wife’s face when he couldn’t sleep, explaining why she and the boys should join Thorin, and how important it was for him to stay and help Frerin. How much he was needed as _The Commander_ , because Dwalin, Balin, and Nori would fill his usual roles aboard the _Retribution_.

Jhili loved the _Ered Luin_ . He loved her people. He loved the stars. He loved his family.

Sometimes, though, he hated himself. 

For giving in.

\-----

Jhili reported everything that he’d seen and done the day before as he and Frerin nibbled scones and sipped water, stale from the recycling system that needed repair. He laughed and smiled and laid plans for the day, for the week, for the year. He walked the halls of the _Ered Luin_ with steady steps, his shoulders squared, his expression watchful and kind. He dealt with kings and captains, with merchants and warriors. With Frerin, he commanded a ship and shouldered the responsibility for thousands of lives. 

His heart hurt every moment, and he counted the hours until his sons would call, and he could see their faces, and imagine quarters that didn’t echo with empty rooms.


	11. Chapter Five: Ori

Ori’s station aboard the _Retribution_ was a warm little nook lined with soft cloths and cool colors that hid away the gray metal walls found elsewhere on the ship. There were times when Dwalin, in a rare teasing mood, said that Ori’s crocheted sweaters and ribboned hair suited his station so well that he could easily disappear into it. 

Ori, rolling his eyes impressively, had answered that “camouflage is a necessary element of living aboard a ship with Fíli and Kíli.”

The oddest item in his “office,” as he preferred to call it, was a metal sign artfully inscribed with the words WHY ME? This had been a gift from Kíli, representing, or so the prince said, “Your overall personality.”

“Only because of you two!” Ori had protested as Fíli clambered to stand on the seat of Ori’s beloved chair to hang the thing.

Kíli’s response had been one of his biggest, most puppyish grins, “Well, of course!” he chirped. “Think of how boring life would be without us!”

“You’d probably be living in a nest of half-finished crochet,” Fíli added as he adjusted the sign until it was just so, “living off tea and beef jerky.”

_Why me? _Ori thought, but he did manage not to say it aloud. Besides, he wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep Fíli and Kíli safe – nor, he firmly believed, would anyone else put up with them. He, however, counted them as his best friends, and they felt the same.__

__\---_ _

__Only two days after Bilbo Baggins joined their crew, Thorin announced a package pick-up from one of the smaller Atani planets, Arnor. The Atani were scattered all over the Arda, and so of course all sorts of items needed to be transported from one colony to another. Unfortunately, they also had the most organized interstellar police force in the galaxy, including a very dedicated fleet of ships dedicated to trade laws and taxation. This was a problem for Big Folk who wanted to transport “interesting” goods, but it was wonderful news for dwarves with a small, maneuverable ship that wasn’t under Atani jurisdiction._ _

__That their own king, a sovereign in his own right, was also their captain was a nice bonus. Hard to try to force Atani law on a fierce king of Khazad who didn’t have patience for pissing fights over laws and regulations._ _

__Gloin, in his role as ship’s accountant, insisted that they were businessmen._ _

__Nori snorted and said they were clearly smugglers._ _

__This particular mission was meant to be a simple pick-up of the week’s mysterious package. Nori landed near the rendezvous point, kicking Fíli and Kíli off to gather the goods and handle the exchange of money. These meetings tended to take place in odd, remote places to avoid the Atani police, but they rarely had problems._ _

__When they did, well, Fíli and Kíli were armed to the teeth and primed for escape._ _

__The Arnor mission was a basic land, grab, take off, except for one thing:_ _

__Fíli and Kíli went AWOL._ _

__Nori started ranting and Thorin was livid, but Ori took it all in stride. He knew the princes were fine. Ori was their voice in the sky, their connection to kith and kin. They wouldn’t dare go missing without telling him they were planning to, even when it was just for some private time away from everyone else (he knew far too much about when they were having sex but, well. Everyone needed privacy from time to time. He and Dwalin certainly did, with Thorin eyeballing them with confusion every time they so much as held hands). This time, however, they had “a bit of a personal mission; we’ll be back within two hours, no worries.”_ _

__So while Thorin and Nori were snarling and Dis was sighing and Balin was fussing about timetables and their poor Hobbit was just terribly confused, Ori was settled in his favorite folding chair right in the landing bay, waiting for the two young idiots to arrive. They were flying low, well inside the comfort of the atmosphere because Nori was being a little shit as always and refusing to take out the Jackrabbit and wasting her much more expensive power on waiting around for Fíli and Kíli._ _

__Ori made himself comfortable, nicely wrapped in a shawl of many colors, loving crocheted from scraps and yarn ends, feet up, with a hot tea and a book in his lap, in case the wait was longer than anticipated._ _

__He didn’t need the book._ _

__He got company instead._ _

__Dwalin arrived with raised eyebrows and a singular mix of curiosity and ill-humor on his face. He was a big, fierce dwarf, Dwalin, but there was always something gentle there, too – and shy, when it came to the fragile beginnings of his relationship with a much younger dwarf. Poor Dwalin was still a little in shock that he both wanted to try dating Ori and that Ori had been very enthusiastic in his acceptance._ _

__It was adorable, really, though Ori would never say so aloud._ _

__“Don’t suppose you know what they’re up to,” Dwalin growled – he growled everything, it wasn’t something to take personally – as he sat down._ _

__“Not exactly, but I have an idea they wanted to buy something. They’ll be back soon.”_ _

__Dwalin grunted and held out – wonder of wonders – a tin of biscuits to share. _Geniune_ biscuits, not a single soy-meal-replacement in sight. Their chief of security was an afficianado._ _

___A lovely view, biscuits, tea, and thee_ , Ori thought with a little grin. _That makes a date._ Out loud he said, “Sharing biscuits? It must be true love,” and maybe he blushed a little but it was worth it for Dwalin’s nervous throat-clearing and shy squirm._ _

__Dates are hard to come by on a tiny ship filled with a grand total of 13 dwarves. Ori would have to remember to thank the princes for the unusual opportunity when they got back._ _

__\----_ _

__Their arrival was really more of a crash._ _

__It was a good thing the ship was flying low, because they lurched straight into the bay. First came the loud klaxon of the shield warning, and Dwalin grabbed the metal ductwork as Ori, never one to give up an opportunity, grabbed Dwalin just as the shield snapped off and wind buffeted the bay and the princes flew in with their booty. Fíli was in front, on his bike, braids whipping from under his helmet like a hero in a movie – if that hero was moving excruciatingly slowly and wobbling dangerously from side to side. Kíli was behind him, free-flying on his antigrav skates, all black leather and fierce eyebrows as he attempted to stabilize their cargo._ _

__“Mattresses?” Dwalin asked, disbelieving._ _

__Ori leaned a bit to the side to see better as Fíli, usually so elegant and graceful with his beloved Raven, skidded sideways across the open floor, slamming none too gently against the wall as three tottering mattresses, increasingly ridiculous in size, piled atop an antigrav unit much too small and tied together with fraying ropes, thumped and crashed in behind him._ _

__“MADE IT!” Kíli crowed, throwing his hands in the air with the sort of enthusiasm most warriors would save for having singlehandedly defeated a fleet of orc pirates. Behind him, the thrum of the shielding snapping back on meant that Ori could release his death grip on Dwalin._ _

__Unfortunately._ _

__Fíli’s hand popped up over his bike, a leather satchel dangling from it. “And here’s the package for Balin!” he added cheerfully as Dwalin surged to his feet, a demand on his lips._ _

__Ori patted Dwalin’s hand._ _

__This was going to be an interesting story. And Kíli was so good at telling them, if Fíli was there to keep him on track._ _

__Ori stood and stretched, carefully setting his latest mug of tea safely out of harm’s way as the far doors flew open and Thorin stormed into the bay, already well into a frothing yell. Dis was on his heels, more amused than angry, and Bilbo Baggins pulled up the rear, looking more than a little startled by it all._ _

__“Don’t worry,” Ori said kindly as king reached princes and the real fussing began. Kíli and Fíli were cleverly keeping the one huge mattress between Thorin and themselves, skipping about and shouting out explanations as Thorin threatened to pull his phaser and fry the lot, nephews included, “you’ll get used to this sort of thing.”_ _

__“You can’t fry them!” Kíli shouted defensively. “One’s for Mr. Baggins!”_ _

__Fíli, always the more logical of the two, added, “And you’ll set off the security system,” from his fort behind the two smaller mattresses. The third was just unreasonably big, and Kíli seemed to be having so much trouble holding it up that it wasn’t doing as a shield at all._ _

__Bilbo’s eyes widened. “Oh dear,” he said uncertainly. “Are you sure?”_ _

__Ori nodded solemnly, but a grin sneaked in anyway._ _

__Life aboard the _Retribution_ was never boring._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Don't worry, the princes tell their story in the next bit!_


End file.
